A Reason
by White Collar Zombie
Summary: Small character studies of the Dark Knight's greatest enemies. Up now: Scarecrow, Ra's al Ghul, Two-Face, Joker, Riddler, Catwoman, Harley Quinn, and Poison Ivy. Nolanverse.
1. A Reason (Scarecrow)

I chose Arkham Asylum for a reason. No no, don't think like that. Look beyond the obvious. We both know it looks like something straight out a horror film. I want you to think beyond that.

Is it the location? Hmm? Nestled deep within the sprawling filth that are The Narrows. The scum of Gotham wound around it like a sickly, polluted spider web. Wrapping its long, greasy fingers around your throat, cutting off your air, cutting off your escape. A lurching reminder when you peek out the window about how even if you do manage to drag yourself from the wreckage- you still have more to burn down.

Is it the inmates- the psychopaths? In a way, I suppose. Especially when you hear their shrieks echoing off the chipped walls. When you glance at the ground and see the drag of feet that polished the concrete floor smooth. When you catch the sight of bloody scratches left behind on the door frames- a clingy reminder of how precious our sanity really is.

Maybe it's your sanity itself that made me choose Arkham. You can feel it, can't you? It's slipping away like the last few wisps of a dream you cling to in the dark hour of the morning. You don't notice at first, but then suddenly its gone. Your sanity has been stolen. Who took it? It's been ripped from your mind. But it's place is not empty. No, no. It's being consumed, you see. Eaten alive.

But behind all these reasons is a driving force. Something that makes your heart jump that much faster when you see The Narrows suffocating you. Makes your blood chill when you see the mumbling serial killer lock his bloodshot eyes on your neck. It's the reason why late at night you cower under your covers alone in your bed, afraid of the people trapped there with you.

That carnal energy. Basic, primitive...

Yes, I chose Arkham Asylum for a reason.

I chose it out of Fear.

**AN/ This is my first fic. I'm kinda nervous about posting this, but I'll do it really fast- like I'm ripping off a band aid. Haha.. Am I convincing you or me? And please, I may be new but criticism is welcome! ****I do not own anything.**


	2. Let Gotham Go (Ra's al Ghul)

When night falls on the streets of Gotham, Bruce, the city writhes in agony.

Tortured souls with finger-painted memories spew from the sewers. Maimed, wretched figures slump out from behind the dumpsters and slither across the sidewalk. The filthy and calloused hands of a man in power grip a cellphone to pull the trigger.

Watch as the broken and burning people claim the streets for their own. They hack at the seams of Gotham and shred her from the inside out. They're clawing at her edges and bashing at her walls. Desperate to escape. Desperate to forsake the crumbling city.

A city imploding and suffocating her people... If you can call them that.

Yes, Gotham burns in the night. Every night. And it will cease only when there is nothing left. When the fire inside consumes all in its path, licking away at it with blue tongues until nothing but the smoldering ashes are left in its wake.

It is inevitable- Gotham will fall. The only thing her citizens can do is ask themselves this: are we able to catch her? And are you, Bruce, strong enough to carry the weight?

I am here only to speed up the process. We both know that the fate of an entire city rests on your shoulders. We both know you will shrug. I am merely here to take the blame before they get the chance to accuse you.

Let her go, Bruce. Gotham does not deserve you. The love you give her- the money, the heroics- they take it and run. They're all thieves and murderers. Stealing your life.

Stand aside. We will finish it- the process that has been eating your city alive has been setting the streets aflame for decades. Crime and corruption only scrape the surface- the torture Gotham has been through is festering and near the boiling point.

We must stop it before it overflows and suffocates us all.

Let her go, Bruce... let Gotham go.


	3. Variable (Two-Face)

You know what the people in this city are missing? Because they desperately need it, too. More so than the Batman.

These people need a fair chance.

A fifty-fifty shot. That's all I ask. They're not getting that from our politicians. The corruption has escalated to a new, immeasurable height. Every day more and more cops are forsaking the code of honor for no honor amongst thieves. Judges are tossing the wrong men behind bars without so much as a second glance. They will keep at it too, as long as their pockets are being lined.

I fought against it. But my heroics were of a different breed than those of the Batman. No fancy gadgets, no mask, no lies. All I needed were some decent men by my side and a little bit of luck. I used to believe in luck. I made my own, with my father's coin- it won me my first date with Rachel. Luck guided my life then. Even if it was corrupt.

But two heads are better then one, right?

I realize now where my mistake was. There is nothing that can govern this world except chance. Unbiased. Unprejudiced. Fair.

If only I saw that earlier. Rachel might be alive, we might be together. I thought I could get lucky and she would be rescued in time. Maybe if I wished hard enough it could have happened. She would be safe, alive.

But it didn't matter if I bet on my father's coin ten times or ten thousand. Because no matter what, there was a fifty-fifty shot Rachel would have been the one who survived...

But, that wasn't true, was it?

It was rigged- fixed. It had to be. There was something there, something else- some other variable I'm not seeing. Something that turned the odds against her when she had every opportunity to come out alive, to come out safe.

The system had been corrupted. That is the only reasonable explanation. It had been contaminated by something unpredictable, something to blame, something at fault here.

A two-faced man. A politician? No. A mobster? No... No.

Something darker. Unknown. Faceless, nameless.

Something that rattles the cages...

Like a Batman.

**AN/ This is my Two-Face piece, I hope you enjoy. It's a little scatterbrained, and for that I must apologize. maybe someday I'll actually get around to rewriting a few of these, I'm positive they can be done much better.**

**Updating has been sporadic to say the least, but hopefully I will get a handle on things soon :)**


	4. Just Cracking Up (Joker)

So you've come here for a story. Hmm... Let's see... Well, I've told you why I prefer to use knives, and how loyal a hungry dog really is. I've told you how I got these scars- twice, actually. I hate repeating myself- but if I'm going to have a past, I prefer it to be multiple choice!

I have an idea. Why don't you tell me a story? I wanna hear something about the Batman.

What's gonna happen to Ol' Batsy when you all finish with him? When he scrubs your streets pristine- clean enough for you "people" to see your ugly mugs on the asphalt. What are you gonna do with him? Throw him out? Exile him? Banish him from Gotham?

You will. I know it. You know it, he knows it. Because at the end of the road, you wont have any further need for his service. You'll give a pink slip to the Dark Knight. Don't... Don't think you won't. It's inevitable. He's an outcast, and you could never accept him. Just because he hides his face behind a mask, when all you do to hide is sip martinis and watch your dirty, lightly radiated money burn. Haha! All you care about is money..!

The Batman is the one shred of good left in your corrupt, counterfeit, circus of a city. And he's about to be exterminated, if you will. It'll all be one... Bad... Joke.

A bad joke. It's all you have ever been. And all you will ever be.

Nobody is laughing... Nobody hears it.

But why can't you? It's printed all over the papers. It's booming across the radio waves. Your politicians spit it in each others faces, then at you for good measure. It's drowning out your lives. It's invading your subconscious. You're becoming deaf to everything around you because all you've been listening to is this.

It's a shame you don't get it, because it's actually quite funny.

Hahahahahahahaaahaahaahaaa!

You see, the joke is on you.

I'm not laughing. No no, no. No... Just... just, hahaha- just cracking up!

**AN/ Fail update is a fail. But in all seriousness, thank you so much for being so patient with me. It's been a rough few weeks and I'm sorry this had to suffer for it :/ **

**Anyway, this piece was kind of hard for me. I actually had this written almost a year ago, but I never liked it. The damn thing has been cut up and revamped so many times I hardly recognize it... Maybe in the end I'll put up the original? If you've got any recommendations for how I could improve it, please share! **

**And thank you so much for the incredible reviews, and I cant believe so many of you favorited this! You really make it worth posting :)**


	5. Shed Some Light (Riddler)

Riddle me this: What happens when you throw a green rock into a purple stream?

Now, don't over think it. The answer could be staring you right in your face and even the quickest of eyes might never see. That's the beauty of a riddle, I suppose... So complex, yet easy to grasp.

Riddles are the perfect crimes, after all.

It can take years to devise the perfect riddle. Craft it, nurture it and perfect it's phrasing and delivery. Tell me- is murder not the same? Does it not take the same amount of dedication to painstakingly plan your rout of escape as it would to weave your words into one resonating sentence? Words are like the treacherous paths in a labyrinth- one wrong turn and you're gone. They also need a quick, easy delivery. Like a gunshot to the back of the head- it should be decisive and loud but get the job done fast and right the first time. No room for err. No time for mistakes.

But most importantly is the lasting impression. Murder keeps you awake on those dark, lonely nights. Pondering, mulling it over, turning it around in your mind like you're raking through dirt in a garden. Like that riddle you just couldn't crack. It's hold on your mind is torturous. Unshakable- like the cold grip that seals around your spine that forces your head below the water where everything is so dark and foggy and terrorizing and blinding and... alone.

Because in the end what more is there other than a man and his thoughts?

If he's lucky, that is. And if that man is not then he's abandoned at the beginning.

Perhaps I could liken this to solitary confinement? I did my time, I suppose I could offer to shed some light on the subject.

Actually, I believe the light was the worst part. Let us assume for a moment that the light is a metaphor of thought. Not exactly hard- picture that cartoonish lightbulb popping above your favorite Sunday morning star's head.

Now imagine it always on. And you, beneath it, always looking up.

You have an eternity to spend, and you've nothing to share it with other than that light.

If you are lucky the light will not bother you. It will hang and burn bright as day, and you will sit beneath it quietly and time will pass- slowly, to be sure, but it will. The light will be nothing other than a companion for you, perhaps a friend.

If you are not lucky that light will burn itself into your mind. Suddenly nothing can be seen. The light has done precisely the exact opposite of it's intended purpose. Everything is dark. Lift your hand up to your face. You can not see it.

You cannot be sure it is even there.

So riddle me this: If a man is left with nothing but his thoughts, how fast will his sanity fly?

Now, don't over think it. The answer could be staring you right in your face and even the quickest of eyes might never see. That's the beauty of a riddle, I suppose... So complex, yet easy to grasp.

Riddles are the perfect crimes, after all...

**AN/ Dedicated to Crazylanie93, without whom this story would have been abandoned faster than your brain cells leave while reading ****_My Immortal_****. But in all seriousness, I really could not have ever found the courage to post this without you. Thank you.**

**I must admit- I know very little about the Riddler. What I do know I've gleaned from ****_Batman Forever_****, the fantastic comic ****_Joker_****, and Wikipedia. And though I liked the movie well enough, I don't really consider it a reliable source. So, this piece is my rendition of a Nolanized Riddler. I hope it's not too horrible, but it is pretty... Bad. Will I ever be satisfied with my work XD ?!**

**Meh. I guess we're done here. Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed it :)**


	6. I Had to Disappear (Catwoman)

What was the most unattainable thing you've ever wanted for yourself? It could have been anything, really- a car, a diamond, a watch- maybe even a person. You could have seen it passing through the street, it could have been casting a white light on you through your computer screen, or sealed behind a window of a department store. You saw it and _you wanted it_.

But you couldn't have it... And that wasn't good enough for me.

I wasn't a kleptomaniac. I could have payed for it if I had wanted to. But... But where was the fun in that?

Theft wasn't something I was ever proud of. It was a means to an end; a bridge between me and the cease of that insatiable desire to have and to own. So what if I was good at it?

The adrenaline, the rush and that pure, pure high you got when your hands finally slipped around that watch just as the police crashed through the door- there's not a thing in the world like it...

It was shortly after I had moved into the city when I was first offered a job. The idea that I could steal for money was revolutionary. People had seen my work and sought me out. And it didn't stop after the first job; there were always new targets, new employers, new challenges and obstacles.

But as my name grew thorough the criminal underworld it also grew in the police databases. I was being hunted by larger, more forceful powers. The cat had become the mouse.

It got so bad I couldn't walk into a store in broad daylight without seeing my mask plastered on a wanted poster in their front window. Nowhere was safe; there were too many people after me, too much dirt circulating about my targets and my plans and the people I worked for. My employers were powerful- but it wouldn't have held them at bay for long.

There wasn't a way out for me anymore. It was all crashing down and I had to batten the hatches soon or the storm would sweep me away. I had to disappear.

The most unattainable thing I've ever wanted for myself was just that- I didn't want to be me anymore.

**AN/ Um, hey there. I didn't think I'd do another one of these, but I got a request by the lovely MissBellatrixx, so, uh- here you go! Catwoman, kind of dark-ish. I'm not entirely sure. I used to believe that she stole because she was poor and didn't have any other means of finding food or something but I decided to go a different rout- so this approach to her backstory is different for me and I think I like it maybe? I'm not sure. I think she's OOC as well so wekgojhvsdcvjkpnedgokjvndwpk fjvvndfw.**

**Thank you for reading :)**


	7. Big Guns (Harley Quinn)

Yeah yeah- I know why I'm here. Relax, sugar. I've done this before. Hell, I must know more about your job than you do.

Oh yeah. I used to be just like you- refined, respectable, reliable. I used to have a "future"- whatever the hell that means in today's world. But I'll tell you one thing- the only future worth having is a future you can't be sure you'll see.

Regret isn't something I'm too familiar with. Especially when it comes to my job.

I'll be forever indebted to my puddin' for this, you see. He took my confined, boxed in and fixated sense of reality and shoved it in the fire. Watching it burn with him was the happiest I've ever been.

I've been riding high ever since. I don't care when I'll crash, either. Just as long as it's in a smoldering inferno that devours everything around it. And when I do go down I'll drag as many as I can with me.

After all- I am doing it for my puddin'. When it's all said and done I'd do anything for him. He gave me my life and when the time comes if I have to give it back you bet your ass I'll let go.

Just for him... Only for him...

Sometimes I do think it's love. When it's quiet and we're alone and I'm maybe watching him work. I see things that maybe he tries to hide under the make-up. Not that I'd ever tell him.

When it's not love? That one's easy.

It's insanity that keeps me there. Whether it's his or my own I can never tell- but I do know that I love it and crave it more and more each time. It's my drug. It's burning and it's painful and it's scathingly addictive and I can almost _feel_ myself slipping further in.

Except I'm here. With you. Not him.

You are in my way.

And, boy, I hope you've brought the big guns.

**AN/ Dear HarleenQuinzel7654 , I am so sorry this took me forever to write but asdkjqhgelavlihgsgjwlgjsnhks nf school. I hope this is up to your standards, as Harley Quinn is a character I am not too familiar with. If there are any discrepancies about her character please tell me and I'll fix it. It was pretty fun trying to Nolanize her, but I'm not really sure I did it well xD**

**Also I feel like I took some liberties with playing her up as maybe a bit of some kind of druggie and I'm not really sure this fit in well with her character. Thoughts, feels, anything?**

**Thank you all so much for the incredible reviews, and I hope you enjoyed it :)**


	8. Hands Off (Poison Ivy)

You can look, but don't touch.

It's my one Golden Rule. It applies to everything and everyone, and yes- I do enjoy breaking it.

A tease. A burning, itching tease. That's all it takes before I get a reaction. I can see your fingers twitching to reach out and connect with me- who can resist pretty things?

I'm the up-and-coming genius pushing at the limits of science to become more, to be greater. Your mind is reeling as you yearn to understand just what kind of power it is I am creating. Maybe I'll ask you to discuss some research over coffee. Just to tease you.

I'm the blood red rose in the garden of weeds. Your eyes are drawn to me, your feet carry you closer. Maybe I'll tremble in the breeze. Just to tease you.

I'm the vivacious, fiery redhead sitting alone at the back of the bar. Your hands jerk in my direction- you want to touch, pull, tear, take. Maybe I'll blow you a kiss. Just to tease you.

Your reach out and try to take hold.

But you can't touch me. You shouldn't touch me.

I'm the up-and-coming genius who shares my knowledge and makes you a fool.

I'm the blood red rose that caresses your fingers and rips your skin.

I'm the vivacious, fiery redhead who turns you on and leaves you broken.

Power. Beauty. Seduction.

Do yourself a favor and keep your hands off.

**AN/ Wow so I'm a dick. I'm so so so sorry I haven't updated in months.**

**Ahahahahaha. I have no idea what Poison Ivy's personality is like. I tried to play up her seduction as the main focus, as that was on of the most prominent aspect of her aside from her obvious, ahem, "natural" abilities. I read through her Wikipedia entry and another site I can't remember the name of, so I realize this kind of sucks. If there are any complaints I'd be more than happy to work this through again.**

**In other news, I actually got involved in a new fandom- I'm a Homestuck now, woo hoo! I've also moved sites. All of my new work is now posted on Archive of Our Own. My username is TerminalMau5, so if you like Stridercest and some lame ass drabbles come on over!**

**Thank you, MissBellatrixx24, you really have no idea how amazing it is for me to see your name.**


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